


Aftereffects

by sabrina_il (marina)



Series: NHL a/b/o + kneeling AU fusion [3]
Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Alpha/Alpha, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Anal Play, M/M, Sexual Experimentation, Washington Capitals
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-11
Updated: 2015-10-11
Packaged: 2018-04-25 23:06:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 756
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4980145
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marina/pseuds/sabrina_il
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tom misses a lot of things about D.C. in the off season - some of them he keeps quiet about.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Aftereffects

**Author's Note:**

> I DO NOT KNOW HOW THIS FICLET HAPPENED.
> 
> I guess I just needed to reset my brain in between writing original fiction so you know, porn. Porn is always the answer. 
> 
> Unbeta'd.

Tom misses a lot of things during the offseason. D.C., Lats, their apartment, the tiny bar on their block that barely deserves the name, practice and winning and Ovi’s ridiculous grin before a game and Backie’s intimidating quietness. He’s open about missing all of those things – he tells his friends back home about them, his cousins, even random people at the airport. 

The thing he misses that he doesn’t tell anyone about is this: lying on Lats’ bed after morning practice, with the curtains drawn, both of their shirts rucked up, legs tangled, Tom’s right hand on his own dick, while his left is between Lats’ ass cheeks, massaging his hole. 

Lats’ hands are the same – one jerking himself, one circling Tom’s hole, both of them moaning, pulling each other closer even though they’re as close as it’s practical to get, racing each other to the finish. Tom tries to bite his lip but the sounds coming out of him don’t get any quieter. Watching Lats’ face as he falls apart is like looking into a mirror, making Tom’s cock leak like a fucking faucet, knot slowly swelling up at the base. 

It’s new – popping a knot without even having an omega in the room. Tom didn’t even know that was possible – biology classes at school taught him alpha couldn’t perform without omegas – but when he looked it up online it turned out to be a real thing, not just his dick being weird. Apparently it was called a “faux-knot”. Tom didn’t really get why it happened, but knowing there were other freaks out there was reassuring.

Lats comes first, yelling and biting into his own arm to muffle the sound. 

Tom closes his eyes, imagines sinking into Andre, feeling his slick, wet opening, tasting Andre’s juices on his tongue, as Lats’ fingers press around and around Tom’s hole, sinking into the muscle, stroking over the pucker. 

Tom shudders and moans, his mind suddenly full of the sensation of being penetrated, sinking down on Backie’s largest dildo – which was barely half as thick as Tom is right now – and feeling the burn all the way up to his nipples. Tom opens his eyes, trying to chase out the images, but he can see them reflected in Lats eyes. Tom comes with his face pressed against Lats’ shoulder, mouth open against Lats’ sweaty skin. He feels like his whole body shakes with the orgasm, like an echo of what it’s like when he’s really knotting someone.

He looks down at his cock – swollen, but not as bad as when it’s the real thing. Lats is already soft. He’s never popped a knot with Tom unless Andre was in the room. 

“Shit, that was good,” Tom says, letting a grin settle on his face. Lats gives him a lazy smile in return. 

Tom is so lucky to have this. God, he loves this fucking team. 

They should clean up, but neither one of them can be bothered. They’ll get to it after a nap. 

“You think…” Lats says, sleepily, pulling a pillow down so it lies at a more comfortable angle. “You think we should…”

He doesn’t finish the sentence for a while. Tom, battling his own exhaustion, thinks he knows what Lats is trying to say. “Yeah,” he mumbles. “We should probably tell Backie.” 

Backie would know what to do. If it was just Andre moving out, the delicate balance they’ve established disrupted by uncertainty – was Andre still going to come to them for his heats? Or would Backie help him branch out? Tom had heard knot diversity was important for young omegas – they’d handle it. He and Lats had earned the right to play NHL-level hockey, and dealing with their own shit was part of that, especially considering neither of them was a rookie anymore. 

But Backie had insisted on helping them to… know what the other side feels like. And now they were both doing shit like this, where no one could see.

It was probably normal. Probably Backie had known other alphas who got a little hung up on the dildo action. Probably he’d just tell them to take a break, stay away from Andre, reset their systems, focus on hockey and leave their assholes alone. Probably. 

Tom swallowed. His mouth was dry, but he was too lazy to get a drink right now. A twenty minute nap wouldn’t change anything. He fell asleep with his jeans around his knees, shirt around his armpits, his arm resting on the pillow above Lats’ head.


End file.
